


When in Venice, Do as the Tourists Do

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Italy Unpacked (TV) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romance, Sailing, Valentine's Day, Venice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17802308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: A Valentine's Day ficlet where Andrew and Giorgio take a romantic trip on a Venetian gondola. However, Giorgio isn't too taken with the tackiness of it all."Some things, Giorgio... are popular for a reason. Being touristy doesn't always mean that something is bad," the Englishman explained."Dasn't it?" he said, mildly unimpressed with his reasoning.





	When in Venice, Do as the Tourists Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mcicioni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcicioni/gifts).



> A (slightly belated) Valentine's gift for Mcicioni, who has been so kind to me in sharing my love of this ship and beta'ing my Italian. Much love x
> 
> *~*~*~*
> 
> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

"So you know when you say we do dis... _'unpacked'_ thing, where we stick to the edges and try and stay away from the tourist traps...?" Giorgio looked out from their sailing vessel to the glorious view - a seemingly never-ending row of Venetian buildings and Palazzos. _No_ greater view of Venice could be had than from the water.

"Hmm... yeah?" Andrew replied, half-listening, his head buried in a book about Canaletto he had brought from home, glancing upwards occasionally as he tried to cross reference the aspects of the city that the artist had captured in his paintings. He removed his reading glasses and turned to Giorgio, giving him his full attention.

"Then why are we on dis... gondola, Andrew?" he asked, running his hand along the side of the wooden frame, splashing the water. "Is about as touristy as it gets."

Yes, he supposed Locatelli  _did_ have a point; it was crass and it was tacky; it was a high-gloss black-coloured boat with a pink cushioned heart-shaped seat; garish to the point of frightful, he might add.

And, _yet_ , there was something about the _romance_ of a Venetian gondola ride that could set aflame even the _iciest_ of hearts, he decided. Not that either of them were cold fishes when it came to the notion of passion. When it came to their individual passions - _art_ and _food_ , respectively - they were beyond enthusiastic; when it came to their passion for one another, they were _insatiable_. Graham-Dixon raised his eyebrows at the mere thought of it.

Somehow, after all of the churches, all of the museums and all of the culture, he thought this would be an ideal finishing, _quirky_ , touch to their journey.

"Some things, Giorgio... are popular for a reason. Being touristy doesn't always mean that something is _bad_ ," the Englishman explained.

"Dasn't it?" he said, mildly unimpressed with his reasoning. He half-expected the gondolier to burst into song any minute now, drawing even _further_ unwanted attention to them.

"Look... it's February the 14th."

"What's that? Your birthday or samthing?" of course, he was clearly winding Andrew up by now. He knew it wasn't his birthday; they'd been lovers for years and even Giorgio, with his chef's brain, chock full of new recipes, ideas and ingredients, could just about find room to remember that _one_ date after all of this time.

Andrew narrowed his eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, "It's Valentine's Day. I thought it would be special."

Giorgio laughed, slightly cautiously, " _I_ know why you brought me 'ere but you don't 'ave to tell the _guy_ , do you?"

He peered over his shoulder, seeing if the man had indeed heard them talking. But it was too late, unfortunately; he _had_. Sensing where this was heading, Giorgio took one last look at Andrew before covering his eyes in embarrassment, hearing the gondolier clear his throat before commencing to belt out the _loudest_ rendition of Dean Martin's That's Amore you had _ever_ heard.

"Oh, dear _God_ ," Locatelli moaned, his head in his hands. Why couldn't Andrew have just gotten him a _greetings card_ , instead?


End file.
